


Celebrate, Eulogize

by lithalos



Category: Persona 5
Genre: 20.November, IMSOSORRY, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-21
Updated: 2017-11-21
Packaged: 2019-02-05 02:33:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12785061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lithalos/pseuds/lithalos
Summary: Nothing to do with one day hoping to make Kurusu smile softly with a gift, with a day all to themselves. Or for being grateful for the thief that stole his heart and many, many gentle kisses.





	Celebrate, Eulogize

**Author's Note:**

> spoilers abound, guys. you know what this is.

Akechi hated birthdays. Truly. The idea of celebrating someone for just _living_ another year felt preposterous and woefully trivial. Why should he shower someone in gifts and praise and pleasantries for _existing_? It was all so laughable, so pathetic and woefully inane.

Perhaps, though, there had been a time when he was still small and naïve that he had felt different. When he, too, was celebrated for simply being... and enjoyed it.

It was before he had been taught, and rightfully so, that his life was too inexplicably worthless to be praised. Before he’d _truly_ come to understand just how much of a blight his life was on the world.

He _hated_ birthdays. Truly. And that didn't change upon infiltrating the Phantom Thieves. Their parties were always loud, obnoxious, and filled to the brim with more unhealthy food than any of them should ever eat. He wanted nothing more than to simply stay at his apartment and avoid the whole ordeal.

But that was impolite. He couldn't do that. To be rude would arouse suspicions—more than the Thieves already had, at any rate. No matter the agonizing socializing, he would endure. No matter the frivolous pageantry, he would weather it with a genial smile and an affable attitude.

There was one thing that made the get-togethers less taxing: Kurusu appeared to be just as, if not _moreso_ , uncomfortable with the idea of celebrating birthdays. He'd always hang back, stay on the fringe of conversation and passing through them with small gestures and shrugs. To be honest, it wasn't drastically different from how Kurusu acted to begin with. It had taken Akechi watching him, listening to him, for nearly the entire evening they had spent childishly glorifying Takamaki’s birthday before he noticed something off.

Kurusu kept dodging one specific question: when _his_ birthday was.

And artfully so; the other thieves were none the wiser to his soft redirections of the conversation. His deflections were masterful—Akechi had to admit, he’d been impressed. Kurusu was clearly adept at throwing people off the scent. So much so it had taken even the Ace Detective himself a long while to catch on.

In the end it didn't matter, Akechi decided. They were so close to the final act, all that was left to do now was close the curtain on this tragedy. This was only a distraction from the main event, and he couldn't afford to lose his way now.

* * *

Curiosity had gotten the better of him, in the end. With his connections, it had been easy to find Kurusu’s date of birth in his arrest record. Not that it was even remotely relevant, but it sated his thirst for any and all bits of knowledge he could get his hands on.

His curiosity had nothing to do with the small, growing understanding of a desire to celebrate someone's life. Nothing to do with one day hoping to make Kurusu smile softly with a gift, with a day all to themselves. Or for being grateful for the thief that stole his heart and many, many gentle kisses.

He wasn't glad Kurusu was alive, and he absolutely didn't want to eulogize the life that brought him so much unexpected joy. It would only make it that much harder to snuff it out, after all.

And as luck would have it, Akechi had already had plans for that day anyways.

* * *

Kurusu didn't look up as he entered the interrogation room—the drugs had dulled his senses beyond repair, no doubt. If not that, at least, beaten within an inch of his life likely did the trick too.

And—there were so many bruises, so many flecks of blood on his clothes. Akechi tried not to care, not to feel anger rise in his throat like bile. Sure, he'd known Kurusu had to die, but the last thing he had wanted was for Kurusu to _suffer._ Truly _suffer_ he did; Akechi felt remorse and disgust prickle at the back of his neck as he listened to Kurusu's laboured breathing. The whistling of air through battered lungs, the tiny whimpers when he'd accidentally breathe a little too deep, told a story of agony even if Kurusu could not.

But Akechi couldn't allow himself guilt. This was what had to be. He'd known—even as they grew close, grew to care, to love against better judgement—that it would likely be at his hand. Akechi hoped his gloves would keep Kurusu's slick blood from staining hands. He knew they wouldn't.

“Have you pieced it all together?” His voice was blank; Akechi spoke more to get Kurusu's attention than to seek an answer. When Kurusu shifted sluggishly, when bloodshot grey eyes slid to meet his, he did his best to smile and play the part of the villain he always knew he had to be. Even if it was hollow, weighed down by his heart shrieking in agony.

Kurusu didn't respond. Akechi hadn't expected him to, honestly. Hoped he wouldn't, _honestly_. It was so much easier to pretend the sweet, kind words Akira had spoken with such sincerity was nothing more than a conjuration of his desperation that way. He'd only dreamed of Kurusu's smile crinkling at the corner of his eyes and the quiet laugh that made his chest feel light. The days they'd spent in each other's company, lazy and slow, were dizzy daydreams of a lonely, hopeful mind.

“Case closed; this is how your justice ends,” and with it Akechi’s one persistent distraction.

The gun was rested on Kurusu's forehead, almost pressed into the skin as Akechi’s finger hesitated on the trigger.

And then the unthinkable happened: Kurusu smiled, soft and slow. Crinkling the corners of his eyes in the way Akechi could never help but be endeared to. Sincere and small.

Akechi’s heart nearly stopped. Kurusu had known.

 

 

He had _known._

 

 

Akechi’s smile twisted into a repugnant facsimile of itself.

 _Happy birthday, Kurusu_ went unsaid as he pulled the trigger, finally.

 

  
Happy birthday, indeed.

**Author's Note:**

> sorry?
> 
> anyways so funny story, my birthday happened to be 20.Nov. so naturally I hc akira with the same birthday purely for irony's sake.
> 
> edit yknow a summary might help.


End file.
